Building Pressure 'Til Friday

Connor spent the week expecting to encounter another of Mrs. Anderson's outfits, but it never happened. By mid-week, he started to wonder if his strange experiences from before were part of some kind of fleeting magic, or a thorough delusion fueled by his newfound obsession with his sexy cougar neighbor.

When his doorbell rang Friday, he was busy drafting a term essay for his classes, which would wrap up for the semester in a couple weeks.

"Hi there, Connor! Here are the keys, dear." Connor couldn't help but take her in. She was clad in a skirtsuit, gleaming stockings and high heels. Her hair was done up, her eyes and lips highlighted by understated makeup.

"You look...great, Mrs. Anderson," Connor said, practically drooling. He couldn't help but picture her current outfit showing up at his door on its own. He wondered how she'd react if it stripped of of her right in front of him.

"Oh, this?" She blushed a little, smoothing the jacket hems and accentuating her fantastic breasts. "It's just a little something for the business conference I'm going to this weekend. We have one of those boring dinner parties to open it tonight. I'd rather be doing anything else, but duty calls!" She dropped the keys in his hand. "So, the mail isn't a big deal, but I am expecting a courier to deliver a package either tomorrow or Sunday...and they must have a signature, or they won't leave it. It's really important--I need the package first thing Monday morning when I come back." She seemed to fret a second. "We could leave a note on the door telling the courier to ring your bell here, but, if it's not putting you out too much, I'd be happy to pay you to you to sit my apartment full-time for the next couple of days."

Connor swallowed hard at the thought. He was already planning on being over at Mrs. Anderson's place for more time than it would take to water the plants...but now she was giving him a legitimate excuse to spend more time there.

"Well, Mrs. Anderson--"

"Oh, call me Rebecca, darling. We're friends now, aren't we?" She smiled. "Like I said, you don't need to feel obligated to stay there, but it would just put me ease knowing I'm not going to miss that delivery, and I'm more than happy to pay you for your time."

"Mrs. An--um, Rebecca..." Connor laughed nervously, trying not to stare at the cleavage pushing out of the top of her blazer. "Don't worry about the money. I'm happy to stay at your place if you want. I can just head over first thing when I wake up, and--"

"Oh, I have a guest bedroom, Connor. My unit's on the corner, remember? Three-bed two-bath. Very plush. Nice big TV, you can help yourself to the fridge..."

"I won't impose on you like that," Connor laughed, "but I'm happy to stay at your place, Rebecca." The way she beamed at him when he said her name gave Connor the tingles.

"Oh, you're doing me such a big favor, Connor, thank you so much!" She went in to hug him, and Connor happily put his arms out to accept it. He closed his eyes, savoring the scent of her perfume as she pressed her body against his. He could feel his blood pumping to very particular parts of his body as she let him go. "Text me if you have any questions, and really, don't be shy! Mi casa, su casa."

"You're welcome," Connor said, smiling at her. "Try and have fun at your conference!" He said.

She waved to him as she headed to her vehicle. He waved back. As she drove away, he held the door to his apartment open, looking back at his desk and his unfinished assignment. If Mrs. Anderson--Rebecca's--clothes were to greet him at the door, he could imagine himself hard-pressed to find his way back here.

Maybe for the entire weekend.

The echoes of arousal from Mrs. Anderson's embrace still had him pressing against the inside of his jeans as he imagined what it would be like with her entire wardrobe. He fingered his own apartment keys in his pocket and looked at his sneakers in front of the door.

"Just to see," He muttered to himself. After all, he hadn't seen any of Rebecca's things since working out with her yoga outfit almost a week ago. "I can just come back for my laptop and stuff later, but...I gotta know."

He slipped on his sneakers and locked his door behind him, heading toward her apartment. When he got to the corner unit, he took a deep breath as he put the key in the door.

It was quiet inside. There weren't any filled-out clothing waiting at the threshold. He gently closed the door behind him.

"Hello?" He looked around at the well-appointed apartment. It seemed pretty well-furnished, not that Connor knew much about design or decoration from his own austere one-bedroom. He didn't think about it when he first helped bring her laundry up for her, but while his unit down the hall was stacked--he lived downstairs while there was another unit upstairs--this place was two floors at the end of the connected building of townhouses.

There were pictures of her with friends, some recent, others when she was younger--but no visual sign of any exes. He'd only seen the entryway where he dropped her baskets off, but now he looked at her dining room, her immaculate kitchen, where he saw a note addressed to him...

Connor,
The guest room is the first upstairs on your right if you want to stay! Help yourself to the fridge and the nice surround-sound in the living room. The wi-fi pass is HiltonHead21. If you decide not to stay, PLEASE post the note beneath this one to the door so my courier will find your apartment! You'll find tape in the drawer below. There's a tall glass with a pour spout next to my toaster. I have two pots that need a half-glass each here in the window, then the floor plant in the living room which should get a full glass. Noon each day should do nicely. Thanks again!
XO
Rebecca

He pulled open the drawer to see the tape, glancing at the note below the first, which gave the courier permission to deliver to his apartment while she was away.

"Um, hey...it's Connor," He said, hoping for a response. He looked back at the closet at the entry, walking back to it and opening it up. It was perfumed with her scent. Coats in a few colors and styles hung above, and he found shoes and boots below. There were a few scarves and winter accessories on the shelves above. He bit his lip, looking down at the footwear. "I don't suppose any of you ladies have anything to say to me, do you?"

He crouched to see a nice pair of tan leather knee boots with cone heels. He ran his fingers up them, looking back at some pink athletic trainers. His cock jumped a little as he picked them up, licking his lips.

"I wonder if you girls get out more than the workout outfit," Connor whispered. He looked around at the apartment again before he went through with his obsessive snooping, knowing that what he was about to do wasn't exactly appropriate.

He inhaled the interior of the pink trainer. It wasn't new, but there was only the slightest sign it was worn--a gentle permeation of sweet sweat that made him reach down to grab himself. Just then, he heard something above him and gasped a little, crouching into the closet and putting the trainers back haphazardly.

"Huh--hello?" Connor said again, closing the door quietly. The sound was gone as quickly as it happened, and Connor looked back at the closet. Some part of him was a little disappointed at the lack of activity from the coat closet...especially after he was so bold with the footwear. Maybe they didn't have the same abilities the clothing did.

He walked up the stairs, looking into the guest room on the right. It was a nice, simple room with a flatscreen TV atop the dresser. He looked in the closet, and sure enough, he found some of Mrs. Anderson's things in one side. They looked mostly like summery dresses and gowns.

"Hi," He said. "Anyone, um...awake?" It was quiet. He looked at a few clear totes above which looked like more clothing storage. Sweaters and jeans, maybe? "I mean, there's no way I just dreamed I talked with her things, right?"

He walked around the stair landing and to his next right, which was clearly her office. There was a nice desk and a docking spot for a laptop, which she obviously had with her, and an older desktop in the corner. He moved on to the closed door at the end of the hall.

"Here goes..."

Connor opened the door. Immediately he could sense her stronger than ever, and he took in the room's decor. Expensive-looking furniture, but a decorative style that seemed more bachelorette than older woman. A couple full-length mirrors. An inspirational quote on the wall. Door to the master bath. Vanity, dresser, an additional low chest, and extra wide double mirror-glass sliding doors.

Connor pulled his shoes off of his heels and laid in her made bed, pulling her pillow against him and inhaling once more. It was similar to the lingerie...similar to the workout outfit he did yoga with. At least he thought.

"I'm...I'm here," Connor said to the empty room. "You said I knew where to find you if I wanted to see you again," he continued.

"If you want to see them, you'd have to follow her to that conference yourself," came a voice from the thin air. Connor sat up and looked around.

"Th-them?"

"Uh huh. Those lucky workout clothes who got to seduce you into an *ahem* 'yoga session'?" It continued. Now that he was was sitting up, he realized the voice seemed to be coming from the master bath.

"Oh, them! Yeah, I--"

"The lingerie, too, cutie. She took the red ones with her." There was a little giggle. "I think maybe you've inspired something in those clothes. The red lace lovelies are some of her favorites, but last we knew, she'd never go to a conference with the expectation that she'd be using the hotel gym, so there must be something else."

"Um, who's..." Connor was about to get up when the sides of Mrs. Anderson's comforter lifted on either end and shoved him back into the center of the bed.

"Oh no, cutie. Stay right there. I'll come to you..." Connor's eyes fixed on the doorway as a glossy white half-figure stepped out. A sleeveless camisole and a pair of gleaming boy shorts appeared from the master bath. "And then maybe you can come for me." Connor watched, his jaw falling open as the silky form sauntered toward the bed, strained with the shape of Mrs. Anderson's impressive breasts and wide hips. "Oh, I almost forgot..." The outfit said. Connor heard a whistle from it, and one of the vanity drawers opened up. "Come on, I think he'll want you to join in."

Connor watched as silky toes emerged from the drawer, then a translucent foot.

"Mmm...if you're sure you want to share," A similarly silky voice much like Mrs. Anderson's answered. Connor watched as a whole silk clad calf emerged from the drawer, bending at its slightly opaque knee and reaching toward the floor as the lacy, decorative thigh-top of the silk stocking came into view. Connor heard laughter from them. "My goodness, you seem awfully surprised for someone who's already played with a few of our friends," They said as another leg lifted out of the open drawer, fully formed and bulging with leggy curves.

"I, uh...I'm just really glad I wasn't dreaming," Connor said back, watching the thigh-high stockings step toward the boy shorts as their tops lined up with the leg openings of the shorts.

"And we're glad there's such a nice young man who knows how to appreciate a woman's charm," The outfit said. "Though you're bit of a tease, if those pink trainers are to be believed." Connor snickered a little, blushing.

"The...trainers?" He asked.

"We don't have to speak like you do to communicate with each other, honey," The outfit responded, joining him on the bed. Connor moved over a little to make room as he watched the curvy clothing press into the comforter. "And those shy little sneakers say you came soooo close to them and didn't even give them a kiss..." The outfit said, leaning toward him. He stared at the protruding nipples of the silky camisole, wanting to reach out to the round forms, but holding back. "You're not going to go on a prude streak with us now, are you dear?" The silk lingerie asked. Connor looked down at the curvy hips, the smooth, silky legs, the dainty feet...and shook his head 'no', smiling.

"Uh...uh-uh. No ma'am," He said.

"Why don't you prove it to us, sugar?"